


You Never Had None Like This

by ninhursag



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Alien Technology, Dream Sex, F/M, Gender Roles, Genderfuck, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Multi, Porn with Feelings, Something Made Them Do It, don't touch that button
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-07-23 21:08:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20014822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninhursag/pseuds/ninhursag
Summary: Michael plays with alien tech. Alex and Maria are unknowingly affected and have some very interesting, very filthy dreams.Dirty with bonus feelings.





	You Never Had None Like This

**Author's Note:**

> For the seasons of kink square: fantasies
> 
> Mind the tags, some of the parts could be triggering. Feel free to ask if you have questions.

It started as dreams for each of them, just dreams safe in their own beds.

Maria DeLuca was impressed with her own brain, at first, squirming in her bed, listening to the whirring sounds of an air conditioner that can barely keep up with the heat.

She dreams of a man's body, his back, all smooth muscle and raised scars cutting across it. The curve of his ass, tight and beautiful. Soft dark hair. She can't see his face, it's buried in a pillow while she fucks him. The sounds he makes, desperate and gorgeous, the grip of his hands on the bedframe, holding on like he needs to.

"Come on, come on, come on, harder, I don't break," he hissed while she drove into him with a strength she didn't know she had. His voice, so breathy, so desperate as he pushed back against her.

She kissed him then, gentle on his right shoulder. There was an old scar right there, misshapen, keloid, and she's gentle with her mouth while she takes the body underneath her harder.

He gasped under her like he was dying. His body shaking while she claimed him.

She's done this before, a few times. Dildo and harness lubricated with laughter and water based lube the last time. Michael Guerin, golden, rangy body all stretched out and legs spread so invitingly, all, "come on, do it like a dude, DeLuca, show me what you've got." 

Until she hit him in at just the right angle and his eyes did that thing, the soft flutter of lashes, the part of his lips. 

But in the dream the dream the dream, oh this dream, it wasn't a dildo she took this man with. It was a cock, sensitive and hot, throbbing between her legs while she moved her hips and screwed into her unknown lover while he urged her on.

But that was a lie, she knew exactly who he was. She shoved her fingers into her panties and rubbed herself off, hard, on the memory of the dream.

The soft beep of a text message on her phone startled her.

Alex Manes dreamed asleep in his chair, collapsed uncomfortably, eyes burning. He'd seen this movie but never like this.

It was something worse than discomfort, old fear, the smell of blood and edge of pain.

It started as a girl, riding him while he sat in the chair, her thighs splayed, breasts brushing against his face while she sank down on his… no. He was seventeen and terrified and the girl wasn't much older, but half bitter and half bored, and the door was locked. 

She had track marks on her arms and his back was bleeding from the belting he'd just taken.

"Come on, kid," she said, like she was reading from a script. "Daddy wants me to make you a man instead of a little fag." 

He'd seen this movie and it wasn't-- "stop," he said. "Stop it." 

She wouldn't, he remembered, not until he finally, finally came and she slid off and sauntered out. He barely managed to reach the wastebasket before he puked, that time. She wouldn't stop, he'd seen this movie.

But the dream, this dream, it wasn't her. It was--

Something softer, gentler, something that seemed to recognize that it was fear not arousal driving him.

"Alex, sweetheart, no, not like that," the gentle not quite familiar voice said.

He dreamed again. 

On the bed, someone's bed. Michael Guerin's narrow, shit mattress shoved in the corner of his trailer.

He's got his legs spread, face in the pillow, biting back sounds while he's fucked, hard and slow. It's not Michael, he knows that, the hands digging into his hips are too thin, fingers too narrow with long nails dragging at his body.

A woman's hands, but the dick bottoming out in him is real flesh, hot and wet, bareback the way he never goes. So slow, he can feel the ridges of it.

Just once, his first time, seventeen and a virgin, lube wet but no condom and Michael looking at him like he was everything.

This wasn't Michael.

"Come on, come on, come on, harder, I don't break," he hissed. 

She kissed him, gentle, over an old scar, on his shoulder. She kissed him and she fucked him one more time, a slam of hips, grip of her hands, too narrow and the feel of her breath on the back of his neck.

His cock was pressed up into the mattress, hard and wet, pressure like a line against it. She didn't touch him, she didn't need to.

He made sounds he barely recognized as coming from himself. Like falling apart.

Woke up, bolt upright still in his chair. Stiff as hell, alone and sweat soaked, stump of his leg throbbing. Cock throbbing, wet against his belly.

"Jesus, what the hell?"

It only took a few hard, twisting pulls on his cock to bring himself off.

A phone buzzed with a text message and he frowned.

Michael was a liquid mess, poured all over the heat of the tiny bedroom, sprawled out and boneless. Somewhere above him, devious voices were conspiring against him and that was pretty ok because for some reason this was his life right now. Clearly he has done something very right by the universe. Finally.

There was a hand rubbing down his spine and another stroking down his hip and over his ass. It felt smooth and itchy all at once, sweat and lube and come all over him, but the touch of hands eased the burning.

They took turns with him, one from behind, a mouth biting into the curve of his ass. One in front. A tongue over the head of his cock.

Laughter.

Someone's breasts, warm and heavy, the brush of hard nipples.

Someone's cock, sliding into his wet, open ass so easily, like they'd been fucking for hours and he had no resistance left.

"How long can we keep you like this?" A woman's sweet, familiar voice, and then a man's, devious and laughing, beloved. "I dunno, let's find out?"

And this was too good there was no way…

Michael woke up on the floor of his bunker, the new alien tech he'd been playing with before he… fell asleep? Is that what happened?

But the tech was making a soft buzzing sound. There were symbols glowing on it but it didn't seem to have done anything other than maybe giving him some nice dreams.

No harm, no foul?

Right? Michael sighed and scrubbed the itchy, sweaty back of his neck before pulling out his phone.

 _Found some tech,_ he texted, _nothing too weird happened. Right??_

**Author's Note:**

> I appreciate and adore feedback of all kinds! 
> 
> Please come and talk about feelings with me haha.
> 
> You can also find me as ninhursag at dreamwidth https://ninhursag.dreamwidth.org/ or ninswhimsy on Tumblr


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